


Cockblocking Hannibal

by nikirik



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Gen, Jealous Will, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:22:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikirik/pseuds/nikirik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will walks in on Hannibal and Alana cooking together and decides to cockblock. Hannibal is very amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cockblocking Hannibal

When Hannibal opens the door, Will knows immediately he’s interrupting something. The ever sartorially elegant doctor looks unusually casual in a plain shirt with rolled up sleeves and an apron around his waist. It’s actually kind of cute, and the thought makes Graham blush a little.

 “Will,” Hannibal greets him with the mild concern. ”Is everything alright? Did you have another episode? Is that about the case?”

“No, I… “, mumbles Will, _just came to hang out,_ but it’s obvious the good doctor is already occupied. _Must be some fancy date_ , he thinks with his heart sinking. He’d better be off not to spoil the moment.

Wait, what?!

“Alana?!”

 Graham stares with disbelief at the slightly embarrassed woman, dressed in matching apron above her colorful dress. “What are _you_ doing here?”

Will pushes past them and rushes into the kitchen to inspect it as if it’s another crime scene for him to torture himself through. Something very close to anger begins to boil inside of him.

“Well, aren’t the two of you _cozy_ ,” he spits the last word as if they were preparing children for dinner.

Are they mocking him? It’s a domestic idyll he is likely to have like… never. Well, it’s not that they knew he’d crush their little party. Is he cockblocking right now? The realization almost makes Will flee from the place.

And that’s were Doctor Lecter decides to add fuel to the fire.

“I brewed this beer especially for you”, Hannibal offers Alana a glass, tracing a thumb over her delicate fingers in the process.  Is that a _smirk_ on his face?

“I want that too,” demands Will and stubbornly flops down on the bar stool. Let him for once be a party spoiler in the name of justice. Well, maybe not justice, but whatever.  If he’s not getting laid, no one is getting laid. OK, that was pathetic.

“You know, Will, when we worked with Alana, students used to think, we had an affair,” Hannibal says conversationally and Will chokes on his beer. He must be hallucinating. The _flirty_ Doctor Lecter. This is not happening.

“Why didn’t we have an affair, Alana?”

“Because you already had an affair,” Alana answers clearly uncomfortable.

Wait, was where someone who was actually more suitable for the doctor then Alana? How high are the man’s standards?

“I… want to chop something,” Will’s voice sounds strangled even to himself.

Alana looks at him as if she’s not sure a knife in his hand will be a good idea right now. Hell, he’s not sure either.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Hannibal purrs, caressing Alana’s hair so lightly, she doesn’t seem to notice, “you are a guest. Let us treat you.”

“Give me the damn knife, Doctor,” hisses Will, ‘cause he’s in the mood to gut something.

“Maybe you’d like to undress,” Hannibal suggests with the ripple of amusement in his maroon eyes at the heated face of the profiler, “before we begin.”

“Why should I undress?” Will squeaks as an affronted maiden being molested.

“Is that a habit of yours to cook in your parka?” Hannibal wonders politely, that _bastard_.

Well, yeah.

Will takes off the parka with trembling hands. And the toque. And the scarf. And the gloves.

“That would be enough, Will,” the warm voice stops him in the middle of unbuttoning his cardigan.

Will feels like he’s some failed stripper. He purposefully doesn’t look at Alana.

But he’s totally in control. He’s the chopping guru.

Or maybe not.

“Fuck,” yells Will, nursing the bleeding finger,” I mean, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bloody the onion.”

“Come here, Will,” Hannibal orders and tucks his hand under ice-cold water in the sink. “I want you to think clearly,” he says in a low voice in Will’s ear, making his hair stand on end. “Who are you really jealous of?”

Hannibal lets go of Will’s hand, leaving him utterly helpless, and walks off to refill the glasses.

“To the most lovely evening,” the doctor proposes a toast cheerfully and sips his fine wine immensely pleased with himself.


End file.
